Welcome in Mindland
by Tori Aoshiro
Summary: America had invited them for two weeks of vacations, far from their nations duties. Of course, he couldn't expect four curious micronations to accidentally unleash some strange thing upon them. After all, he wasn't the one playing with magical artifacts back in the XVIIth century
1. Prologue

Hey guys! I was in the French part of the fandom and I thought "What if I tried to translate what I write?" So here we are. I apologize for any grammar mistake and I do hope you'll enjoy this humble fic. (Though this is only the prologue)

* * *

A new day, a new conference. This is how life went for nations in these peaceful times. Of course, it didn't mean there was no problem to solve or no work to do but everybody agreed on the fact it was the most peaceful era they had lived since a very long time. And, as usual, America had decided to celebrate this.

There was, somewhere on Pennsylvania's countryside, a huge property that could be called a simple farm if it wasn't this big and luxurious. A half hour long car trip away from the nearest city, it was built at the time when England was still his caretaker. It had numerous rooms, a basement, an attic, not to mention the garden, its crops and stables. This is where America decided to invite a big part of the world, far from meetings and annoying rulers, for two simple weeks of vacations.

Many agreed. England, France and Canada were first, though Arthur had grouched, just for good measure. The Nordics 5 would be there, with Sealand and Ladonia. The whole Germanic clan was participating, except for Switzerland and Liechtenstein. Hungary was coming too, with the young Kugelmugel. China and Japan would be here, as well as Hong Kong who didn't want to miss the opportunity to spend two entire weeks with his boyfriend, but all of the other Asians had refused. Wy was coming too, perhaps a bit forced by Australia. We wouldn't forget the Mediterraneans, including Greece and Turkey. America, in a rare thought for his brother who appreciated them, even had made the effort to invite Russia and the other Slavs. Only Russia, Poland and Lithuania were coming.

The first day was a happy mishmash of shouting, arguments, laughs and sharing. They had to found room for everyone, unpack the bags, make dinner, keep an eye on the kids who kept running about the house (and also Prussia who didn't seem more mature). They organized everything as they could and, globally, those two upcoming weeks seemed perfect. They planned trips to the city, to the forest, horse riding, fishing, shows to see, maybe even a car trip. Even the grumpy ones like England or Romano seems more relaxed than the usual.

When dinner time came, everything seemed in place. Everyone was settled, Germany had taking upon himself to plan the chores and meal times (for the dining room was too small for everyone to eat at the same time), despite the babbling Italian clinging onto him. France had claimed himself responsible of the meals, however China and Turkey had refused to be left out.

At last, it was bedtime for the young ones. Finland and Hungary took Sealand, Wy, Ladonia and Kugelmugel to the room they were all sharing.

There were only two beds. Wy, as the only girl, had the right to sleep alone, which didn't displeased her, according to the smug look she gave to her three friends. The two adoptive brothers, Sealand and Ladonia, had to share the second one and even though they had a hard time accepting it at first, they were way too tired to fight and dozed off quickly, tugged in by their loving father.

Kugelmugel had to settle for a mattress between the two beds, but it didn't seem to bother him. Hungary tenderly kissed his forehead as she helped him undo his two long white braids. The micronation quickly fell asleep, muttering something about the fact that sleeping on the ground was art. Hungary and Finland left silently, closing soundly the door behind them.

Yes, everything seemed perfect for those two weeks ahead. Games, friendly quarrels, trips…

But of course, it could not happen this way, right? Not in a world like this one.


	2. The idea

"Ladonia, how many times did I ask you to put your phone away when you're at the table?" Finland asked as he walked through the kitchen where the four micronations were having breakfast around the little table provided just for them. As for the rest of the nations, or at least for those who were awake, they had settled in the living and dining rooms. Conversations and half-asleep voices resonated through the whole house.

"Not now, _Äiti_ , I'm about to beat my own high score!" Ladonia answered without looking away from the colorful candy-filled screen.

"Stop calling me _Äiti_ , Ladonia. I'm a man, call me _Isä_."

The redhead didn't answer. Finland waited for a few more seconds before sneaking up on him and taking away the device. "No more screens for today."

"What?" cried the scandalized micronation. "Äiti, I live on the internet, you can't do this to me!"

But Finland didn't buy it and left the kitchen without a word, the phone in his hands. It was not the first time and it wouldn't be the last. He was usually kind, but Ladonia needed to be scolded once in a while, when he refused to listen, otherwise he would become a real brat. And he couldn't always count on Sweden to take care of this. Sealand, face stuffed with hot chocolate, felt sorry for his brother.

"Come on, don't worry Lad, we're going to have fun today." he said, lips circled with his sweet beverage.

"Shut up, Sea."

"Guys, stop." Wy stepped in with her usual pout. "I don't feel like putting up with you two, today. If you start fighting again, I'm throwing you in the stables with the big smelly horses."

"Oh, please do!" suddenly exclaimed Kugelmugel. "That would be art !"

"How would throwing us in horse poop be art?!" said a scandalized Ladonia.

Kugelmugel looked at him, a sparkle in his purple eyes.

"Art is explosion. An explosion is violent. Throwing you in horse poop is violent. So throwing you in horse poop is art."

All three stopped, unsure if he was serious or not, until Kugelmugel threw a fit of laughter.

"It was just a joke." He said. "But seriously, I'm craving for art, right now."

"Well there!" Sealand exclaimed. "We'll have a painting contest today!"

"So, we need paint." said Wy.

They all looked at KugelMugel with eyes filled with expectations but the white haired boy just shook his head.

"I only have my pencil case. Austria didn't want to pay for supplementary luggage. I don't think there is enough for everyone. It wouldn't be very practical."

"It's fine, I'm sure America has painting stuff in this weird mansion." Sealand assured.

"Who wants to go ask him?" Wy said.

"No, wait, why don't we go and found it on our own? It would be like a treasure hunt and the first one to found art supplies wins!" stepped in the red haired boy, cheered up by the prospect of showing off his skills. Sealand enthusiastically jumped on his chair. Wy just stared at him with doubtful eyes.

"Uh, aren't we going to get into troubles?" the little girl objected.

"Art is daring to break the rules." Kugelmugel assured.

"It's settled then!"

The kids shared a smile, even grumpy little Ladonia. However, they didn't know that, somewhere in the house, a fifth party was smiling as well, delighted.


	3. The treasure hunt

"Seagull to Kangaroo, office #1 is empty. I repeat : office #1 is empty. Over."

"Sea, those are telephones, not talkie-walkies."

"But this is so much cooler! I feel like I'm a spy… Over."

Wy sighted, frustrated. "There's nothing in the living room's closet. And I'm stuck, keep going without me."

"Why, Wy? What's happening?"

The little girl cringed as she took a new glance through the thin space between the two doors of the closet she was sitting in. Greece was sleeping like a log on the couch, so deep in dream's world that Wy had had no problem to get pass him a few minutes ago. However, England had decided to come and continue his embroidery the second she had opened the door. She had no other choice but to stuff herself in the furniture item until the old guy would finish his work. "I'm just stuck, take care of this yourself." she hissed.

Sealand stomped his foot in the darkness of the empty office. "Seagull to Firefox, how is it going? Over." No response. "Firefox? Lad?"

Somewhere, in another office on the other side of the house, Ladonia was hacking the access code to a computer, no shit given about the phone left on the corner of the desk. Sealand grumbled. "Seagull to Lab Rat, tell me you're here."

"Calm down, Sea. I just got there." Assured Kugelmugel. The young boy was slowly climbing the stairs that led to the attic. The dark room was covered in unpolished wood. Its ceiling was low and all the space was filled with boxes and diverse objects, mirrors, paintings, toy boxes overflowing with relics, as well as many objects covered with sheets. He smiled hopefully. There was something in here, he knew it.

"Have you started looking?"

"Not yet, wait a minute." His wide artist's eyes surveyed the room. He tried to ignore the paintings and the delightfully chaotic mess. The closets first, he decided. There would be some painting furniture for sure. But which one first? The room was filled with cubic shapes dressed in white, same as petrified ghosts. Kugelmugel walked among them, appreciating the dark and mysterious atmosphere of the attic.

* * *

"Did you find something, Kugel?" Wy asked curiously.

As only answer, the closets door opened. She let out a surprised cry as England looked at her interrogatively, almost annoyed.

"What are you doing here, Willow? Where are the others?"

"It's Wy, for you." she grumbled. "And it's not your business."

* * *

Then there was a change. But not under his long white bangs. A shadow, a sparkle, a blow slipped at the corner of his vision and made him turn. A draped shape was there, among the others. Round, different. Its sheet was moving as if it was shifting in the wind. Kugelmugel stopped for a second. His heart was beating fast. Fright. Curiosity. Excitement.

* * *

England frowned and firmly took her arm to let her out of the closet. As soon as she was standing, she shook him away.

"I won't have you and your friends making a mess in the house, or you'll all be on cleaning duty."

"You're not my boss, Eyebrows!"

"That's not the point!"

"But we're not doing anything wrong! We're just looking for painting stuff."

* * *

He reached out a pale hand towards the strange object. Took a few steps forward, as if something was pulling his heart towards it. The sheet moved more. He ignored it. His delicate fingers gripped the fabric. He pulled.

* * *

England lifted one of his monstrous eyebrows. "Why didn't you ask Alfred?"

She fell quiet as she didn't know how to justify their little treasure hunt. Fortunately, the buzz of the conversation still going on through the telephone caught England's attention. "Lab Rat? Kugel, answer me! Seriously, guys, can't you try a bit harder?"

"What's happening? Where is Kugelmugel?"

"He had to go look in the attic."

* * *

A huge round object appeared in front of the child. It looked like a mirror, flat and high, held by two wooden pieces. But the surface that should have been reflecting was covered by two large doors, closed by a lock that looked like the ones you'd find on a window

Kugelmugel barely hesitated, too thrilled by the mysterious atmosphere. He opened the doors.

* * *

"The attic?" England's eyes widened in terror. "We have to go get him immediately."

* * *

A blow hit his head like a brick. He only had time to let out a startled scream before he fell on the ground.


	4. The attic

Sounds of shouting and running resonated in the house's corridors up to the last floor, rumbling as would the stampede of a herd of wild horses frightened by a wildcat,. "Kugelmugel!" England exclaimed as he climbed first the thin stairs of the attic.

"Yes, what is it?" the young boy simply answered, much to the Englishman's surprise.

The white braided micronation was sitting on the rough floor, knees comfortably brought up to his chin, arms hugging his legs, facing an old mirror with a latch and cracked glass. The sheet that once covered it was displayed around its sculpted wooden feet. Kugelmugel didn't bothered to turn around, even when the Englishman approached, agape.

"Is everything alright? You screamed."

"I did?" he simply answered.

"Yes. And what are you doing on the floor?"

"A blow startled me and I tripped." Without taking his eyes away from the mirror, he pointed at the wall. The old round window's rusty latch had broken and wind engulfed in the attic, lifting the corners of the sheets. England lifted an eyebrow, getting more and more surprised. However, he quickly pulled himself together, trying to keep a straight face in front of the little boy who was still staring at his reflection in the mirror.

"Are you… sure? That's all?"

Kugelmugel blinked two or three times before his purple gaze looked up at the Englishman. A reassuring smile painted itself on his face and England barely sighed from the relief. But before either of them could open his mouth and speak, noise raised again.

"Can we come up now?"

"What's happening? What happened with Kugel?"

"Eyebrows, I want to come up!"

"Wow, hey there, what's up? Let me through, kids, it's my attic." America's curious face appeared above the trapdoor opened over the thin stairs in a choir of protests from the young ones stuck in the corridor. "Iggy, what happened? What is Austria's kid doing here?" he asked. His voice was reproach-free, he wasn't even worried, simply curious. By reflex, England used a paternalist and annoyed tone again.

"He climbed here to find art material. We should forbid kids to come up here, it's dangerous."

"Relax, dude, they're just having fun! Though it is true I didn't come up here for a very long time. There might still be old weapons lying around." the American added pensively. "But hey, they're probably busted by now!"

"Alfred, even old weapons are dangerous! You think it's fine? What will you do if one of them gets hurt? The door to the attic shouldn't even be unlocked, you idiot!"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it…" America shrugged. "Sorry, kid, but the old fart is right, you should not come up here. I'll found you some paint if that's what you wanted."

"Old fart? Alfred, are you kidding me?"

"What? It's true!"

Kugelmugel barely reacted. He had turned to the mirror again and was contemplating his reflection once more. England felt worried again but Ladonia, having obviously decided it was enough, ran pass America and jumped to the Austrian micronation. "Hey, Kugel, you're ok, right? Come here, you're not gonna stay here all day, you heard Alfred, right?"

Kugelmugel recoiled slightly when his friend's hand touched his shoulder. It was barely visible, in fact no one noticed it, except for the little redhead who frowned immediately. "You sure you're okay?" Still no answer. Kugelmugel simply let him help him up and guide him to the exit with a pensive face. "Hey," Ladonia whispered before they left, "I've found the office's computer's access code. We can go play with it if you want." The white braided kid giggled at this and it was as if colors suddenly rushed back in him. They joined Sealand and Wy downstairs, who had no idea of what had happened but were glad they could move on, and they all ran to the living room, followed by America.

"Yo, dude, you coming or not?" he shouted at his former caretaker before he went down.

England waited for him to leave to study the cracked mirror that had interested Kugelmugel so much from a little bit closer. He might be imagining things but… Better safe than sorry. He made a point to close the latch and put the sheet back in place before he left. An ominous feeling he tried to ignore was holding his heart in a burning grip. He really hoped he was wrong.


	5. First symptoms

The painting contest only started in the afternoon. The four children were barely arriving to the living room, followed by America, when France and China called for the first lunch service from the kitchen.

A dozen nations took over the dining room, sharing huge dishes of _Salade César_ , roasted veal and Cantonese rice. It seemed like Wy and Sealand were having a competition to see which one of them would most compare French food to English meals, all while talking loudly enough so that England, fuming on the other side of the table, would hear them. If one thing could make all the English-speaking countries (well, everyone actually) agree on something, it was the fact that it was hilarious to drive the former British Empire crazy, and then watch him being comforted like a grumpy kid by a Frenchman more than glad to take care of him. Ladonia was reflexively glimpsing at his empty hands, grieving the loss of his mobile phone, until his adoptive brother caught his attention with a surprise tickle fight.

Of course, the battle went out of control and the two kids were separated after Sealand fell from his chair. Apart from that, there was no accident. Ladonia often checked up Kugelmugel who was sitting on the other end of the table, between Austria and Germany. The white haired boy didn't look up the whole time, focused on his plate he was busy emptying. He was excessively quiet. He wasn't usually very talkative but this time he wasn't saying a word, not even to ask for water or salt. He ate and drank what was put in front of him and the other nations were too agitated to notice his muteness.

At last, the long awaited for activity started. The four micronations settled in the living room with paper and tubes of paint America had kindly given them. However, England made sure a few adults stayed with them, so that they wouldn't have any more bad surprises. Austria was reading a novel in one of the armchairs; France and Canada were talking next to the door.

Ladonia was giving everything he had, completely overtaken by his competition spirit. Unlike Sealand, who painted like a blind man, or Wy, whose style hesitated between realism and expressionism, he preferred a manga style, really popular on the internet, though he did add his own touch to it. His drawing represented a boy sitting on the beach, surrounded by a very detailed scenery, from the footsteps in the sand to the floated wood's nerves. Very difficult to do with a paintbrush, he would have preferred his graphic app.

He glanced at Kugelmugel's work. It was as marvelous as ever. Out of the four children, the Austrian micronation was the best at art, maybe because he was obsessed with it. He was capable of staying hours before a canvas, giving the smallest final touch, or meditating for weeks about his next work or about what exactly was art. At that moment, he had his nose almost touching the paper and a perfect control of the tiniest hair on his brush, creating a landscape full of shapes and colors that seemed about to gain a life of their own. Ladonia didn't like to admit it, but he knew nobody could beat Kugelmugel at arts, not even him.

"Hey, Kugel, back off, you're going to print your nose on the paper !" he joked. Kugelmugel didn't react, as if he hadn't heard anything. The redhead frowned. "Kugel, hey, oh!" he said, touching the other boy's shoulder to get his attention.

He reacted in no time. The brush's handle violently stabbed his hand he immediately took back. Kugelmugel turned to him, hissing like a scared animal, threatening him with his tool. "Do NOT touch me!" he spat, his face contorted in a wild expression.

The entire room went still. Sealand, Wy, Austria, France, Canada, they were all silently staring at the white haired young boy. Ladonia, it was rare enough to notice it, didn't dare to move, even less to talk. He stood there, mouth agape, hand half lifted in the air, dumbfounded. He had never seen Kugelmugel react this way. Actually, nobody ever had.

Kugelmugel's face slowly, really slowly, went from enraged to surprised, and then to scared. He looked really pale again, as if his hair was bleeding on his face's skin. He looked at the brush he now held in a shaking hand and quickly set it back on the coffee table the four kids had settled on.

"Leo…" Ladonia started.

"No." Kugelmugel roughly interrupted at the mention of his human name. He quickly pulled himself back together and humbly looked down, as if he was scared. "I'm sorry I yelled…"

"This isn't like you, Leopold." Austria said, and Kugelmugel cringed. "Is everything alright?"

"I think I'm just tired… May I go lie down?"

"Isn't this a little rude?" Austria said in a frown.

"Oh, I believe it won't bother anyone." Canada softly stepped in. In the silent living room, his voice was much more audible than usual. He offered the child a patient smile. "If you aren't feeling well, you can go have a nap, it isn't a problem."

"Thank you." Kugelmugel whispered. He got up and walked through the living room in general silence to get to the door that led to the corridor. His knees were shaking. His eyes were glued to the ground.

Ladonia wanted to say something, words burned his lips. But after what happened, he didn't dare. He could only watch as his friend disappeared from his sight. The others started painting, reading, talking again. He just stood there, thinking.


	6. The private talk

England wasn't in his room, the next morning. Neither was he in the kitchen he was forbidden to enter. He wasn't having breakfast in the dining room with the others. He wasn't doing his embroidery in the living room, right next to the four drying canvases, one of which had been left unfinished. Neither was he in the attic which stairs had been brought back up and carefully locked, nor was he in the corridors, pestering someone.

Ladonia finally found him, locked up in the old office on the second floor, the one the four children had vainly tried to open the day before. The room was dark and dusty, as if it had been abandoned for a long while. There was a large wooden desk on which sat an old globe and a three candled candelabrum, two armchairs on each side, one or two pieces of furniture that looked like closets, a long shelf filled with old books and a carpet on the floor. The curtains were drawn; the Englishman sat at the desk, his forehead in his hands, lighted by the remains of a candle.

Ladonia accidentally made the door creak by bending forward and England vividly looked up.

"Were you never taught how to knock before you enter a room?" he said, closing the thin leather notebook he had been leaning over. His voice sounded annoyed, yet tired.

Ladonia didn't answer, not exactly in the mood to act obedient. He came in calmly, closed the door behind him, and walked up to the armchair in front of England's desk ; he fell in it, arms closed, face dead serious. The springs grated agonizingly.

England sighed and pushed the notebook towards a corner of the table. "What do you want?"

"What did you do to Kugelmugel?"

The aggressive and accusing tone the boy used made him frown, but he tried to stay calm. "What do you mean?"

"Don't act all innocent." Ladonia warned him. "I know you did something to him in the attic, yesterday morning."

"Why on earth would I have done anything?"

"I don't know, because, you were mad? Who cares, I just want you to bring him back to normal, okay?!"

The conversation was starting to become heated and England had to draw on his self-control not to snap at the red haired kid. "Alright, alright, calm down. Explain to me what you mean. Did he look different to you, yesterday?"

"He yelled at me…"

"According to Roderich, he was tired. It isn't all that surprising."

"You don't know him, and sometimes I feel like Austria doesn't know him either. Kugelmugel never yells like this. And that's not even all."

England crossed his fingers over the table like a therapist, eyes locked onto the worried micronation in front of him. Ladonia breathed in several times before talking again. "He didn't speak a work after leaving the attic, and if everyone wasn't so blind, you would all have noticed."

"What was he like?"

Ladonia looked up, interrupted. "What?"

"Leopold. What was he like?" England hesitated for a moment. "Did he look angry, to you? Or maybe afraid?"

" _Kugelmugel_ ," Ladonia insisted, "he looked… lost. As if he didn't really understand what was happening." He admitted after looking for his words.

"Alright. Go on. That's not all, is it?"

"No. He didn't wake up, this morning, and Hungary let him sleep, and that's weird because even Sea can get up in the morning. Also, Äiti refused to give me my phone back because he knows I managed to hack the computer in the office downstairs."

"You did what?"

"I just wanted to use the internet, and I wasn't even there for for long!" Ladonia defended himself. "And that's not important. The important thing is that he knew about it, even though no one saw me do it. The only one who knew about it was Kugel. And Kugel never tells. He just doesn't. So if he did something like this, it has to mean you did something that changed him. I don't know what, but I want you to give me my best pal back!"

Then everything went silent. Ladonia was catching his breath. His words had heated without him even noticing. England stared at him from afar, detached. He looked worried. They both were.

Slowly, Arthur put his head back in his hands, lost in thoughts. Ladonia heard him swear a few times under his breath, in English. "Listen, Lars…

"Ladonia."

"… Ladonia. I'm not sure about what is happening to him yet. I'll do my best, but for now, we have to wait and see. He just might go back to normal by himself."

Ladonia looked daggers at him. "You better know what you're doing, old fart."

England grumbled a little bit. "In the meantime, maybe you should go wake up Leopold."

"Kugelmugel."

England rolled his eyes. "I know. You micronations really have a problem with human names."

"I'd like to see how you like being in our place!" Ladonia snapped, getting up from the armchair.

England got up as well, pissed, and opened his mouth to reply. But he couldn't pronounce a single word. Suddenly there were screams. Very close. England couldn't recognize them but, considering Ladonia's expression, he knew for a fact Kugelmugel's voice was one of them. Good, now he knew.

"Go look. I'm gathering a few things and I'll catch up with you." he said to Ladonia as only his heels could be seen leaving through the office's door.


	7. The attack

The volume of sound was growing in the corridor as annoyed or surprised faces stock out from the doorways like as many snails who would leave their shells at the first shower. Worried whispers and answerless questions slid on the walls like the heavy mist of autumn mornings. Everything seemed too slow around Ladonia as he ran towards the cries coming out from the micronation's room.

A small cluster of people was forming before the opened door. The redhead barely looked at the people he shoved away as he passed through. In the middle of the room, on the mattress between the two beds, Kugelmugel was struggling like a madman in the hands of Hungary and Austria, both completely confused. A bruise was blooming on the young woman's cheek who tried her best to restrain the convulsing legs of the white haired boy. Austria had a scratch on his chin and his glasses lied on the floor as he tried to restrain the upper part of his body.

Ladonia stopped at the scene. Kugelmugel was screaming, his chest shaking with sobs, his eyes shut closed, his fists clenched hitting the air when they managed to free themselves even for a second. "What are you doing? Let him go! You're hurting him!" yelled the little redhead. He wanted to run but he was stopped by Germany's grip on his shoulder that stopped him just in time.

"Stay back, Lars, it's dangerous!" roared his low and intimidating voice. A few hands gripped the boy's clothes to keep him back as the German looked back at the nations arriving one after the other, ready to take charge as he always did. "America!" he yelled as he spotted said man. "A tranquilizer!"

"Way ahead of you!" assured America as he kept running to the stares.

Germany searched his pocket with his free hand, then let it go and turned to Italy who was clinging to him as usual. "You phone, Italy."

"Uh," he hesitated. "Which one?"

"Any of them!"

The Italian picked up a black flip phone (the one he used to contact friends who weren't nations) from his pocket and put it in the hand of Germany who opened it. Austria, with a restless voice, dictated a number he entered before lifting the phone to his ear. Ladonia listened eagerly as he barked in German into the phone with a voice that went from worried to angry to surprised.

"Nothing happened at his place, I don't understand." He breathed when he hung up.

Ladonia growled in frustration. "Are you all completely nuts? Of course his territory isn't the problem, you idiots!" He struggled in the hands of the other nations and managed to free himself. He didn't lose a single second. He jumped on Austria who wasn't expecting it and rolled on his back, freeing Kugelmugel who took advantage of this to sit up. The young white haired boy threw a fist at Hungary who could only dodge by letting go of his legs. Several frightened screams rang out when the violent and now free child jumped on his feet. But when, instead of attacking, he jumped on the bed on his right, silence settled little by little.

Kugelmugel retreated to the corner, trembling, and sat in fetal position, his forehead resting on his knees, and started to rock back and forth, silent. His long white hair, wet from his sweat, stuck to his skin. They weren't braided. His pajamas were missing two buttons.

Austria fumbled around for his glasses and put them back on his face before getting up, eyes round with surprise. Hungary had her forehead wrinkled by worry and confusion, unsure if she should approach the young boy again or stay put. Ladonio didn't hesitate. He got up and walked straight to his friend. "Ladonia, no, don't touch…" The young woman's advice went to deaf ears ; Ladonia laid a hand on Kugelmugel's. He immediately took it back when a whine was heard and he saw his friend clench his fists as if to punch him. He was now unsure as well.

He heard the adults talk with each other behind him, with whispering voices, and swift steps in the corridor. He wondered for a second if America was coming back but nobody walked in. He tried to think, tried to understand. But it was out of his reach. He didn't have the slightest idea, the smallest clue about the reason Kugelmugel was acting like this. England really had messed up this time, but that didn't make him feel better, not even a little bit. He didn't dare touch him anymore, he just whispered his name once in a while, hoping he'd come back to his senses.

The steps came back and agitated whispers roamed the group of nations. Ladonia looked up at Sealand and Wy bringing with them, inside the room, Kugelmugel's uncompleted canvas as well as a palette they had made sure to fill with paint. Ladonia's eyes widened, filled with hope. "Kugel! Kugel, look!"

The young boy had no reaction but it didn't faze the three other micronations. They set the easel Wy was carrying under her arm, sat the palette on the bed and Ladonia had the idea of taking the brush to tease the exposed side of Kugelmugel's cheek.

At first, nothing happened. Then, soon, the Austrian micronation looked up with empty eyes. They landed, after some difficulties, on the brush Ladonia was holding. His hand reached up to take it and the redhead gave it to him with no resistance. Then he turned and looked for the palette he managed to find and to take with his other hand. Only then did he seem to notice the uncompleted canvas and started painting like he was alone in the entire world. _Now what?_ Thought Ladonia.

Of course, this was the moment America chose to rush back in, holding a box of pills. When he realized the situation had changed, he gave the tranquilizers an unsure look, the same unsure look the other nations had. "Well, if he freaks out again, he'll have to take them."

"Don't you dare, you idiot! That would only make things worse!" Every head turned and a number of people rolled their eyes when they saw England as he passed through the group and entered the room. "I'm taking care of this from now on."


	8. The plan

"I said, everybody out, I'm taking care of this!" insisted England, arms folded, refusing to let go.

If several nations had chosen to leave it and moved out of the way, a good dozen of them were not going to leave that easily. Especially Austria and Hungary.

"I will not move an inch before I know what you did to this child, England." Snarled the young woman whose murderous aura was almost visible. Standing behind her, Austria didn't say anything but wasn't thinking any less.

"Hungary, I already told you, I didn't do anything, it was an accident I will take care of as soon as possible. So if you could…

"We're not leaving before we know everything, old fart!" proudly declared Sealand, which made America, Wy and Ladonia smile. Germany solemnly approved. Italie was clinging to him as usual, and the Bad Touch Trio, sensing troubles, was observing from the corner.

England tiredly sighed. He had already lost way too much time trying to make them leave, and in retrospect he realized how foolish of him it was to think they'd let him work in this madhouse. Might as well take care of the chore now. "Alright, fine. Come in, and close the door. I tell you, you leave and you let me do my job. Alright?"

"Alright." Said a few people at the same time.

England took a deep breath, trying to summarize everything as simply and quickly as possible. "Yesterday, in the attic, Leopold…"

"Kugelmugel!" corrected all three of the micronations.

Engladn rolled his eyes but kept going. "Kugelmugel has opened a mirror from the day I was still taking care of America. And this mirror might have been the container from some sort of demon…"

"A demon?!" yelled America, both astonished and furious. "You left a fucking demon at my place?"

"I couldn't take back a "fucking demon" from your place before being kicked out of your territory by a bayonet, I beg to differ. I had to leave a good dozen of items like this, that's why I was worried about the children going in the attic. I didn't think you were going to free it anyway since you clean your house once every millennium."

"Why are we surrounded by supernatural problems every time we don't have politics on our backs?" growled Germany.

"Wait a second." Interrupted Austria, his forehead marked by a mix of worry and outrage. "Are you saying a micronation whose territory is at my place is currently under a demon's influence?"

"It only attacks the representative, your territory isn't in danger." Assured England. "But it will not leave by itself, I have to chase it away."

"So you want to do an exorcism?"

"Not exactly, Ludwig. That demon doesn't directly possess the body, otherwise, you can trust me that Kugelmugel would already have attacked us." Hungary rubbed the bruise on her cheeks and looked as if she wanted to say something, but England kept talking. "It penetrates the psyche of a representative to influence it. Normally, it gives a feeling of power and rebellion, a desire to take over others. I am quite surprised of Kugelmugel's reaction to be honest." He paused, seemed the think. "A simple exorcism won't be enough, I have to go find it directly inside the psyche and get it out of there."

"And how are you going to do that? Asked Wy.

England glared at her. "Haven't I already said enough? You know what's the matter with him so…" Only silence welcomed his words. Nobody moved and he realized it was a vain fight. Resigned, he kept talking. "I am going to link our two psyches with a quite simple spell. Long story short, I am going to enter his head."

"Funny, that reminds me of something…" Italy cringed.

"Can you bring other people inside his psyche?" France asked.

"Yes, it would be easy but…" England paused and hos eyed widened when he realized what he'd just said. France smirked at him which he replied at by a gesture I will not grace with a description. "No, no, no way, no one is coming with me, don't even dream about it."

"Oh, come on, mon lapin! Don't you think you can use a little help in there?"

"Oh, I want to come too! I want to punch the demon!" exclaimed Sealand.

"I will take care of the demon. YOU will leave this room and let me work, that was the deal!"

"England." Austria intervened. "I believe letting us help is the least you can do after letting go of that beast on us."

"But…"

"We'll be stronger if we're more." Stated Germany. "And I'd like this to be over as soon as possible."

England looked at the group of nations and bit his lips. That was not what he wanted, that was not how things were supposed to happen. But once again, he didn't have a choice. "I'm warning you, those are things you cannot yet comprehend. But I suppose I won't change your mind."

"It's settled then! Let's go save Kugel!" America exclaimed, glad to have the opportunity to play heroes.

"No, America, you are not coming."

"What, but…" England glared at America, trying to look as intimidating as he used to be.

"The others can come, but I need you to stay here. I want you to guard the door and make sure no one interrupts us."

"But I'm the one who should…"

"It's my only condition. Kugelmugel will only be saved if you agree." America was still unsure but England knew he wouldn't resist the idea to have had the determining move. After sending him an annoyed glance, Alfred left and sat against the door, grumbling for himself. England sighed. That was at least one trouble less.

"I agreed to bring you with me, but only do come if necessary. The others will watch Kugelmugel and make sure he's alright." The nations looked at each other and whispers were exchanged. They quickly suggested to leave the micronations. All three protested but when Hungary assured them they were the ones who could best comfort Kugelmugel in his state, they eventually agreed. Spain and Prussia would stay to keep an eye on them, just in case.

That left Austria, Hungary, Italy, Germany and France. _Well_ , England thought to himself, _this is not going to be easy…_


	9. Departure

In the time it took for America to walk down to the dining room and come back up with six chairs, the entire house knew what was happening. England had to refuse Norway's help, explain to Finland and Sweden that their sons weren't in danger, and let Antonio take care of an extremely worried and swearing Lovino. They were loosing precious time.

Kugelmugel was still painting. He looked like an automate; he didn't have the slightest expression on his face, painted mechanically, almost automatically. Ladonia, Sealand and Wy were gathered around him, attentive to the smallest sign of life on his face. They were taking their job very seriously.

The nations placed the chairs next to one another, under the direction of England who sat on the one closest to Kugelmugel. France sat on the second one, than Austria on the next, and so it went. Prussia and the micronations were observing curiously as England gave his last piece of advice.

"Do not interrupt me once we've began, and try not to panic or you might get lost during the connection and we're busy enough not to need to go and stitch your psyche together again. You'll follow my instructions – down to the letter, I insist. Do not complain if something happens to you, it'll be your fault." He stopped to scan their faces, looking for the tiniest sign of doubt. "Last chance to jump off the train, after this it'll be too late."

No one spoke. Austria just looked kind of annoyed and Italy shook his head, nothing more. Hungary even looked eager to start. France was giving him an amused look, imagining what was happening under those sandy locks of hair. "Don't say I didn't warn you. Hold hands."

They followed his directions, creating some sort of chain. England wanted to continue but he suddenly seemed to remember something. He turned to Prussia, Ladonia, Sealand and Wy, all eagerly watching. "Try to keep Kugelmugel calm. If he starts throwing a fit, don't give him tranquilizers, it would put his conscious to sleep and the demon could do whatever they want to. And I'd rather it not happening. Am I clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Sealand exclaimed exaggeratedly, miming a military salute under his friends' laughter.

"Peter, I'm serious," England insisted, frowning. "This is not a game."

"Don't worry, Arthur. We get it, everything will be fine," Prussia assured with a huge grin that was probably intended to look comforting but strangely enough didn't work.

England didn't answer, choosing not to add to his stress. He turned to the group of nations. "Close your eyes, try to relax. You'll focus on my words and the sound of my voice. If you feel like falling, don't struggle, it's the whole point. Ready?"

Eyes closed, several nodded. England than turned to Kugelmugel. This was the most difficult step.

He held out a hand towards the young artist's forehead. He didn't have a reaction until the moment their skins touched. Kugelmugel winced and whined lightly. He looked like a snail trying to get back into his shell. England tried again but Kugelmugel just whined harder.

Why did it have to be so difficult? "Hold his head." He ordered the micronations who looked at each other, puzzled. "Quick, it will last just a moment."

Eventually, Wy went ahead of her two friends and slapped both her hands on each side of the white-haired head. Kugelmugel sobbed. England didn't let them change their mind and covered the boy's eyes with his free hand. Kugelmugel screamed and England hoped it wouldn't break the others' concentration. Quickly, he closed his eyes and pronounced the formula.

« Ingenii omnes deos deasque oro: nos hanc animamque conectant. Gratias. »

He could feel the magic cracking under his fingers as his conscience faded little by little. Francis's hand became wimp in his and he deduced the spell was working. He let himself fall into the dark abyss. His other hand fell, freeing Kugelmugel's eyes. Wy let go of his head. He started painting again, as if nothing happened.

* * *

When France opened his eyes, at first, he only saw a white and heavy mist hiding his surroundings. He felt the ground under his feet and wondered when he stood up. The place he was standing in was empty, or at least the fog was keeping him from seeing anything.

"Hello, Frog."

France jumped and turned around. England gave him a cocky look. "Did I scare you?"

France shrugged and looked around again. "Where are the others?"

"You're the first. The travel is longer with physical distance."

"Oh, I see." France smiled at him. "So we're alone together?"

"Right, make a fool of yourself." England grumbled. An unavoidable smile rose to his lips, though.

They stayed silent for a few moments, waiting for the others. France often glanced at England, wondering if he should speak. As he wasn't saying anything, he eventually made up his mind.

"Are you going to tell me what you're hiding from us?"

"I have no idea of what you're talking about."

"Oh, please." France rolled his eyes. "You love it when people know you're right, especially about magic. You would never lose an opportunity to show off – I mean, a demon is something. But you were going to take care of it without even mentioning it to us? I know you better than that, bunny-rabbit, there is something you're not telling us.

Arthur didn't say anything, he just looked in front of him, trying to hide the shame rising to his cheeks. France thought he was going to crack, but Austria's silhouette suddenly rose in the fog. _Fine, I'll find out eventually. My bunny-rabbit has no secrets for me…_


	10. The Big Vienna

Italy was the last one to appear and had to endure Germany's scolding, accusing him of taking his time. However, the German was actually very relieved to have his little brunet by his side again.

The fog blinding them started to faint away, signifying them the connection between their minds and Kugelmugel's was achieved. They could first make out the floor tiled in large grey stones, then a row of buildings on each side of their little group. The architecture was familiar, with several floors, caved facades, elegant roofs and sash windows. There was, however, one remarkable difference: everything was twice as big as usual, from the potted trees along the street to the doors and their curvy handles. And it was empty. Completely.

"Where are we? What's happening?!" Italy said, worried.

Hungary frowned. "It looks like Vienna, don't you think, Roderich?"

"It doesn't look like it, I know this street, it is Vienna indeed." Austria confirmed, looking around, wide-eyed. "But why is everything this big?"

"Maybe we're the ones who shrunk?" France suggested, uneasy.

"Don't look at me like that, I am not a psychologist!" England said when everybody turned to him. "How would I know why Kugelmugel's psyche looks like that?"

"Maybe it represents the way Kugelmugel sees the world." Germany said, pensively. "The psyche is where thought come from right? It must represent the way Kugelmugel interacts with his surroundings. Since he's just a tiny micronation, everything must look huge to him."

The other considered the possibility. "We're not here to talk about psychology, we have to find that demon."

"Easy there, Arthy, we're getting to it." France assure. "Do you have any idea where your demon could've gone?"

"It attacks the spring of desire, which can usually be found at the center of the psyche. It may sound simple, but sometimes nothing differs the "center of the psyche" from the rest of the…"

"Oh, well I guess it's not the huge ball right over there then, right?"

Everyone turned around at Italy's intervention, as he himself was turned towards the end of the street, a few feet away from them. Well-tended grass succeeded to grey tiles, trees and shaded pathways succeeded to the buildings. Where the street ended, a park started. And in that park, displayed in plain sight, was built a huge orange wooden sphere contrasting with the green of the plants surrounding it. The few windows spread at the surface were blinded and there was no visible door.

The place was screaming "THIS IS WHERE YOU NEED TO GO." In metaphorical neon letters.

England stopped for a few seconds before pulling himself together. "Uh, yes, it's… Probably there."

"It actually looks like Kugelmugel's territory." Austria declared. "But it's bigger, and it isn't supposed to be here."

"Oh, I've never been there!"

"Calm down, Italy, it's not the real building, it's just a mental projection." England reasoned with him. He got a hold of himself, straightened a little and pretended to carefully dust his clothes like a gentleman. "Now, we need to find an entrance."

"That shouldn't be too difficult, it's just a ball." Hungary pointed out. "The door must be on the other side, we just have to walk around it."

However, the research proved to be much more difficult than originally planned. The six nations started confidently following the contours of the sphere. A minute passed. Then two. Then five and they were still walking around it. Big Vienna's street had disappeared behind them and they were now only surrounded by the park's vegetation. Something was off, but no one dared to stop and point it out.

It was England who ended up breaking the silence. A simple "That's enough. It won't work." And all six of them stopped, disappointed. No matter how much time they tried to get on the other side, they would never reach the door, would they?

"Is Kugelmugel refusing to let us in?" Hungary asked in a defeated tone.

"It seems so."

"Took you long enough to get it!" a voice chirped from the bushes.

The nations jumped. "Who's there?" Austria exclaimed, on the lookout.

There was no answer. The leaves suddenly shook and the stomp of running feet was heard. A silhouette left the vegetation to fly laughing through the park pathways, barely a few meters away.

Immediately, the nations ran after it, cutting through the grass. The run's result quickly became obvious. Italy and Austria lost their breath in an instant, far behind France who held on a bit longer. Hungary, through strong will and stubbornness almost caught up to the little spy, making his escape more difficult, but it was Germany who managed to catch him and pin him to the ground.

As soon as he was caught, the runaway threw a fit of laughter who surprised and even scared all six nations who caught up, one by one, to the park isle where he had fallen. "Okay, you win!" He exclaimed, shaken by a mad laughter that didn't seem about to stop. "I surrender!"

His voice was strangely familiar and everyone's hunches were confirmed when the child, because he was indeed, turned his merry face to them.

"Ladonia?!"


	11. The grown-ups place

« Ladonia ?! »

Germany stood up and, still holding Ladonia by the collar, forced him onto his feet. The little redhead was still laughing like he'd just heard the best joke in the world. "What are you doing here?" the German scolded him. "You were supposed to stay with your brother and Wy!"

Ladonia was still laughing and wouldn't answer, despite Germany's large hands shaking him like a rag doll. France was the first one to notice something was different about the young boy. He wore a white shirt splashed with paint and black shorts and he was bare footed. His messy hair and beaming expression gave him a wild yet charming look. His face radiated strength, a free and desirable glow. "Oh my God," he exclaimed between two fits of laughter. "Wait till the others are here, it's going to be amazing!"

"The others?" England repeated, fearing the worse to come.

The others indeed. Wy and Sealand chose that moment to burst into the dirt path from the bushes and Ladonia laughed even louder. Both nations and micronations alike stopped, stunned.

Ladonia took advantage of the moment to slip through Germany's grip, leaving a piece of his shirt in his clenched fist. He ran, giggling along with Wy and Sealand, all three of them heading for the same direction. Growls of anger and frustrations rose among the nations as they sprinted again after the three children. "Prussia is going to hear me when we get back home!" Germany swore to himself, hopping mad.

Hungary was running ahead, once more. Hammering the ground beneath her feet, she called the children with authority and got mad when they only responded with shouts and laughter. She was about to catch up to them when the path ended on a new larger and clearer area of the park. There, Hungary stopped, unsure. And when the other nations caught up to her, they couldn't blame her.

It was a large playground, one unlike any the nations had ever seen. There was everything, swings, slides, rope bridges, climbing frames, but everything was… Artistic. No other words. Shapes and colors and placements, everything seemed like it originated in a dream of Picasso's or Dali's. Moreover, everything was moving. Not because the games themselves were moving, but because the playground was crowded. Wy, Sealand and Ladonia had joined countless other micronations having the time of their lives. Not only young unacknowledged micronations, but also more popular ones. Italy let out a surprised gasp when he noticed Seborga standing on top of a colorful wooden castle. "Oh, it looks fun!" he noticed, characteristically.

"What are they all doing here?" Austria said, surprised, breathless after all this running.

England's eyes widened and he had an almost bitter laugh. "They tricked us. They are representations too, just like the Big Vienna. They are part of Kugelmugel's mindscape." An understanding "Ah!" drifted through the group and France even allowed himself a giggle.

"I was wondering why Ladonia was laughing so much."

They went quiet for a moment. Italy made a move towards the games but Germany held him back by the collar, saying they didn't have time for games.

"We're not much further, though," Hungary noticed. "Kugelmugel still won't let us into the center of his psyche."

"Well, we just have to find another way past the front door!" France said as he shrugged. "Any ideas, England? You're the magic champion here."

"For the last time, I'm no psychologist," England grumbled. "I'm not used to exploring people's psyche; and even if I was, every psyche is unique and fluid. Even by exploring, it can take hours for us to find a solution."

"Why don't we ask them, then?" Italy asked, pointing at the playground. "They live here, surely they know better, right?"

"They are only representations, I doubt they leave this part of the psyche much," England sighed.

"So what, it doesn't hurt to try!" Italy said. And as Germany had let him go, he simply walked in the middle of the playground, looking about, seeking someone to talk to, bouncing his arms like the old child he was.

"Should we follow him?" Austria said.

"Why not?" Germany agreed. "Believe it or not, but his ideas work, sometimes." Nobody complained and they started to follow Italy who was wandering with a large smile on his face. Curious and amused eyes spied them from behind ropes and wooden boards. Italy seemed unsure, not daring to interrupt anyone in their games. They followed the young auburn haired man to the other side of the playground, to a part they didn't noticed when they first arrived.

The playground opened on a little path paved with grey stones and bordered by metal fences. It climbed in a soft slope towards a faraway building of sorts, entirely made with glass. With good eyes, you could make out several tall figures walking inside. The entrance was blocked by a red rope, and on each side was set a white stone statue. Austria and Hungary had a moment of surprised when they recognized their own features in the two stone faces.

Italy, intrigued, tried to keep going on the path but when he tried to walk over the thin red rope, something pushed him back, as if he was pushing his foot into a huge pillow. He tried again, confused. "I can't pass!" He exclaimed, astonished. Germany tried as well, doubtful, but was stopped all the same.

"No use to try, that's the grown-ups' place," said a voice from behind them.

They turned around, and Ladonia smiled at them, hands in his pockets, still beaming.


	12. The Flower

Perfect silence held the room. Prussia was lying down on the brothers' bed, hands behind his head. Sealand was sitting on the floor, at the foot of the bed, Wy had her back against the wall. As for Ladonia, he hadn't moved from his place next to Kugelmugel. The first minutes, nobody had looked away from the artist, attentively spying every movement, every expression. But after some time went by without anything happening, the tension had deflated somehow. They were now waiting more than watching over the young boy.

Ladonia was watching the painting his friends was making, for fun. It was an almost surrealistic landscape, with red flowers and sand clouds and black boxes that melted like ice. A fox's tail was sticking out from the dark sludge. Then a flower started bleeding and a deformed hand sprouted from its core to try and catch the red fur. Ladonia shivered and had to look away for a moment. With Kugelmugel, art was certainly intense.

"How much time do you think they will need?" said Sealand, breaking the silence.

"No idea." Ladonia looked at his clenching fists. "But they better hurry."

"Calm down, Lad. It'll be fine," assured Prussia. "My awesome little brother is with them, he won't let them mess up."

"I'd like to know what it's like in his head."

"Well I'd mostly like to be able to talk to him," Wy admitted. "I still don't understand how being…" She hesitated a little. "… Infected by a demon is keeping him from talking."

"I think it doesn't but he's scared of us," Ladonia said. "He looked terrified, earlier."

"How about we just do "the test"?" Sealand offered.

Wy and Ladonia looked at him like he was stupid but Prussia seemed intrigued. "What test are you talking about?"

"It's nothing, Sealand is being the same idiot as usual," Wy said in spite of the blond boy's protests.

"The test is a micronation thing," Ladonia grumbled.

"So you won't tell the awesome Prussia about it?"

The three kids giggled with a somewhat somber expression. "The idea is to call one of us by their human name and see their reaction."

"Oh right!" Prussia exclaimed. "Because you can't stand it!" He stopped for a second and seemed to think. "Why is it such a big deal for you, by the way? I never got that."

"It never bothers you to be called Gilbert?"

"Oh, you know, I've had like three thousand names," he admitted with a small, almost nostalgic smile. "Order of the Teutonic Knights, Prussian Empire, Eastern Germany… "Gilbert" is just another name."

"Ah… Well it's not the same for us."

"Well, it's not that bad when it's Pappa or Äiti calling us by our first names," Sealand added.

"But that aside, we don't really have a nation identity," Ladonia said. "We're not acknowledged as real nations. Well, except Wy," he pointed out when the little girl opened her mouth to differ. She breathed a small "thanks" before he continued: "Our names, that's kind of all we've got to exist. So if we don't react when we're called our human names, it means there really is a problem. But that's a test we do to see IF there really is a problem," he spat in a sour voice at Sealand. "Not when we already know there is one!"

"No, you don't get it," the blond boy replied. "Maybe it would get to him at least a little!"

"Hey, he's right! It won't hurt to try!" Prussia said from the bed.

Wy didn't say anything but Ladonia lifted an eyebrow. True, if he could get a reaction from Kugelmugel, it meant his state wasn't as desperate as it seemed. The little redhead turned to the artist and hesitated for a few moments before opening his mouth. "Leopold?"

Everyone in the room held their breath, but Kugelmugel didn't have any reaction. At least, not immediately. Ladonia was the only one who, placed the way he was, could see his brush leave one of his melting black boxes to paint a red flower, larger and darker than the others. Intrigued, Ladonia said the name again, several times, faster and faster, under his friends' stunned looks. Kugelmugel didn't show any expression but the flower was growing with every word. "Guys, come and see," Ladonia breathed.

Wy and Sealand came closer, followed by Prussia. They needed a few minutes to understand, minutes that were enough for the flower to take up a good half of the canvas. "Do you think he's trying to talk through painting?"

"Duh, of course he is, Sealand! I don't know what he's trying to say, but he reacted!" Wy said, hardly hiding her smile.

"Kugel, we're here, how do you feel?" Ladonia tried. Unfortunately, this time, Kugelmugel didn't react at all. His brush forgot about the flower and went back to adding a few touches to a cloud in the background. The micronations had a disappointed pout.

"Looks like he'll only react to his name," Wy pointed out. "Too bad we can't talk to him."

But that was counting without Sealand's enthusiasm. The little boy suddenly had an idea, the best idea of all times. He jumped up and ran to get a new brush. When, triumphal, he brought it back to the room, Ladonia immediately understood what he was thinking. "Hand it over, I'll do it!" he ordered his brother who wanted to protest but ended up giving him the tool.

Ladonia thought. The red flower was spread over the canvas, round and swollen, bloody, dark. Its core was completely black, like it was rotten. The little redhead was hesitant but he had to try. He barely knew what he was doing, he wasn't thinking. He chose, on the palette, a clear and soft blue, almost green, like spring water among the woods. And, gently, he traced over the borders of the flower.

Kugelmugel almost jumped. The delicate blue was mixing with the red, but wasn't intruding. A discreet purple line was forming at the end of the petals, extra paint that would form a crust when dry. The child was watching that strange line surrounding his painting, still, eyes unsure, as if waiting for an unavoidable catastrophe. Prussia and the three other micronations held their breaths.

Then, Kugelmugel turned to his palette. His brush floated over the red, shaking lightly. Kugelmugel hesitated. And, eventually, he wiped the brush clean on the side. And finally, with a delicate hand, he gave a new touch to the purple that came and licked the bloody and wet red.


	13. The Guide

"The grown-ups' place?"

"That's what I said."

Ladonia was looking down at them from his ridiculous height of 4,2 feet, with the large smile of someone barely holding back from spoiling the surprise of your Christmas gifts for you. The nations were staring at him, uncertain. France whispered that he had blue droplets of paint in his hair now. England, Germany and Austria gave him a blank look. What did they care that the small mental representation had played with blue paint?

If he heard him, Ladonia didn't react at the remark. He just stared at them all, with his large smile that was honestly starting to make England very uncomfortable. The little redhead looked like he knew something and was waiting to see their reaction when they would find out as well.

"Italy," Germany whispered. "Didn't you have some questions to ask, earlier?"

"Hm? Oh!" Italy slightly bounced forward, getting an almost amused glance from the tall blond man. He had the attention span of a sparrow. "Yes, um, Ladonia? I can call you Ladonia, right?" Ladonia nodded. "So, well, what's the grown-ups' place?"

"What, no, Italy, that's not…"

"Oh, I dunno, we can't go there." Ladonia shrugged and looked up at the distant glass building. "We hear them, sometimes, that's all. Even Kugelmugel doesn't climb up there."

 _There can hear them with all this noise in the playground?_ Austria thought as Italy continued: "Oh, so you have a Kugelmugel here?"

"It would be weird if we didn't?"

"Do you know where he is?"

Ladonia showed a moment of hesitation, his smiling stiffing up slightly. "Home, of course."

"You mean the center of the psyche? The sphere we are trying to get in?" England stepped in.

Ladonia didn't say anything. His gaze dived into England's, and it was like opening a window in the middle of winter. His smile melted into a thin line at the bottom of his face. The former empire made a point of holding the stare, refusing to let himself be intimidated by a child, but he couldn't help but shiver. Ladonia knew something, he was sure of it.

"What have you done to Kugel?" he asked, not exactly hostile but suspicious, careful, clever.

"We haven't done anything, we are trying to help him," Germany answered instead.

"A demon has infected him, we are just trying to find it and keep it from doing any harm," England added. "You know it, don't you?"

Ladonia was still staring at him straight in the eyes. England suddenly noticed he was standing right in front of him and wondered when the little boy had walked so close. "You aren't from here, just like it. How can I be sure you are not on its side?"

"The demon's?" England said, but before he could add anything, Hungary interrupted.

"It may be hard to believe for you but we know Kugelmugel," she said softly. "We want to help him be himself again and if you know something that may help, you need to tell us. Do you know a way for us to get into the center of the psyche?"

Ladonia turned to her and his gaze seemed to soften. "Yeah."

"… Could you tell us?"

"I could." An amused spark burned in his eyes and Hungary sighed.

"What do you want for it?"

"I don't trust you guys, especially you," Ladonia added, looking at England who raised a confused eyebrow from such unjustified discrimination. "If you are going into the center of the psyche, I'm coming along and making sure you aren't messing around. Deal?"

"What, but…"

"Deal." Hungary confirmed, interrupting England who snapped at her.

"No, we are already way too many people here, we're not taking a kid with us on top of this!"

Ladonia glared at England. "You stink and you're dumb, do you have to come?"

England choked on his anger to the point he couldn't answer. France laughed, getting a glare from the Englishman. "This kid has got nerve!" Ladonia shrugged and turned around, pointing at them to follow him, a playful smile back on his face. The nations quickly followed him. England was sulking at the back of the line, and France almost felt bad for him. There was a time when the Englishman was very good with children, he wondered where he had lost all of this. In the sea, probably. With his tea. "He doesn't seem to like you very much," he remarked silently and England looked away.

"He must be sensing my magic," he vaguely explained.

Right in front of them, Italy was giddily prancing in front of Germany. "Captain, my information mission was a success!"

"Yes, yes, good job, Italy."

"Ve!"

And lastly, Hungary and Austria were closely following Ladonio. Well, actually, Hungary was dragging Austria, who was already exhausted, despite the fact they technically didn't have a body in this world. Therefor, it was the young woman who first noticed the direction Ladonia was taking them to. "We already tried this way."

"I know. I saw you, remember?"

"Is there a secret passage we missed?

"Nope, we're taking the door," Ladonia said. "If you couldn't pass, that was because you weren't allowed to. But I can because…" He blinked two or three times, and shook his head. "I can. So if you follow me, you should be able to enter."

Indeed, after only a few minutes of walking along the round limits of the sphere, a small door appeared, cut in the wall itself. Ladonia pushed it without a thought and gestured at everyone to follow him inside.

"Try not to make any noise," England advised. "We don't know where… wow."

That was definitely the word to describe the center of Kugelmugel's psyche. If the sphere looked large from the outside, it seemed huge from the inside. The nations and Ladonia were in a big room without any straight wall, covered in wood. Corridors opened in three different directions, twisted in arches and turns you couldn't see the end of. And every square centimeter of wall was decorated with a painting or some mural art, creating a gigantic colorful mosaic in which the group walked with the disturbing feeling of violating the micronation's intimacy. Ladonia was the only one who seemed rather unperturbed. He took a deep breath, walking into the room, a peaceful smile on his lips, as if breathing the salty wind of the shore.

"By the way, try not to touch any…" There was a very brief sound, something like a pressure-cooker's hiss, and the little redhead turned around immediately, looking worried. "Okay, who just touched something?" he said.

Germany immediately looked at Italy, but he was still by his side, and as surprising as it seems, hadn't even gone close to the wall. England was on his left, and even though he was dangerously near the paintings, France seemed to have kept his hands to himself, for once. That only left…

"Where are Austria and Hunagry?" Italy asked.

The nations looked around but the missing couple was nowhere to be seen. Ladonia cringed. "Did someone see what they touched? Where were they?"

"Here, on the right!" Italy indicated the general direction he had seen them going when he came in. Ladonia walked up to the wall he showed him and checked the paintings, one by one, fingers crossed on each side of his face. The nations looked at each other, lost and worried.

"Found them!" the child suddenly exclaimed. He turned to the rest of the group with a small smile. "Don't move, don't touch anything, I'll be right back."

He didn't let them time to ask questions. He placed a hand over the painting he was examining and disappeared instantly.


	14. The memory

He had seen the crayons on the light wooden floor, and in seconds his only grip on reality was the feeling of Elizaveta's hand in his. Then she saw the crayons too, and nothing was holding them back anymore.

 _The child was alone. He was drawing on construction paper, lying face down on the floor._ He looked young. _Too young._ Younger than Austria had ever seen a nation child before. _And he was crying, as he drew, and the sunlight falling down from the window above him was setting fire to the tears rolling on the paper. He was hurting. He was starving. He was too young to take care of himself. But he was alone. All alone in his tiny, deserted house._

Edwin was gone. _Who is Edwin?_ wondered Austria. _He was gone. With strangers dressed in dark blue. He hadn't come back. There was nobody else. He was alone. He was hungry._ He had been hungry for a month, but there was nothing to eat. _He couldn't sleep, it was too difficult._ And he didn't know what death was. _So he drew. Because that was all he knew, and because at least, when he was drawing, he would forget he was hungry._

 _Art was all that mattered._ Art was helping him survive when he wasn't even one year old. _Art was life. Art was growth. Art was independence._ He was five. And Edwin was there. _He was drawing outside. But nobody came to look at his work. Independent, yes. But still alone._

 _He was looking at Austria. Austria didn't see him. Austria looked at Vienna. Vienna was big and old. He was small. And alone. He was drawing, his knees buried in the grass. He didn't have pretty clothes to show off._

 _The pretty clothes he was given after he was seen. People had looked at him, and all of a sudden, he was likeable. Austria had put him in a garden to be seen._ He lived together with him now. _He was given pretty clothes and a name he didn't want._ The name, not the clothes. _Fashion is art too._

 _Leopold, come here._ He didn't like the name. _Don't call me that._ Fine, but come on. _He didn't like the name. But it wasn't important, he wasn't alone anymore. He was loved. A little. People watched him draw, at Austria's feet. There was Hungary too. And kids his age. They were so many, so big, so strong compared to him. But they didn't hurt him._

Hungary jumped. _That wasn't exactly what he wanted._ Don't let go of me. _But it was enough for now._ Come. _He loved them too. He was making art. He wasn't hungry. It was okay if he never grew up again. As long as he wasn't hungry. As long as he wasn't hurting._

Austria fell down on his back in the middle of the room. Hungary stayed on her legs. But she was shaking and rubbing her eyes. Ladonia was short of breath, bent in half, hands holding onto his knees. "Wow, I didn't think you'd go this far this quick."

The others ran to them, worried, saying their names just to get a look out of them. "Are you alright?" Feliciano asked, on the verge of tear, and Elizaveta reassured him with a little forced smile.

"Everything is fine, Italy, it was just…" She looked for the right words, but didn't find them. She had no idea what she and Austria had just experienced. A memory, but something more than this. Like several memories at the same time.

"Alright, now please don't touch the walls again, okay?" Ladonia spat.

"Why? What was this?" England asked, with an eyebrow raised.

"I don't have words to tell you," the little redhead said calmly. It wasn't something one could describe.

He was asked more questions but refused to answer, and when Austria could finally stand up straight, the nations and their guide could finally walk into the twists and turns of Kugelmugel's psyche. And this time, they made sure not to touch the walls.

They walked for a long while, randomly following the corridors as they turned. "We're looking for the demon, right?"

"Yes, Italy, that's right," England sighed. They were still behind Ladonia, but the redhead wasn't talking anymore. "Are you sure that's the right way?"

"No, I never came here," the young boy said calmly.

England would have liked to get angry, to yell at him, to ask why he came if he didn't know better than they did. But he was exhausted, he didn't know how long they'd been in Kugelmugel's psyche and he was starting to get tired of it. He just wanted to find that stupid demon, to get it over with and to forget this whole thing. So he just sighed and kept walking. France came and pressed his hand, and for once he was feeling grateful for the Frenchman's kind gesture.

They kept walking, and walking and walking, and the corridors were empty and quiet. And then suddenly, after what could have been an hour or a whole week, Ladonia jumped at a corner and quickly walked back, bumping into all the ones behind him and throwing everyone on the floor.

"What on Earth…" started England, but Ladonia hissed at him that they all needed to be quiet. Hungary figured out what was happened and silently sneaked up to the corner to take a peek behind it.

The corridor was ending on a circular room, like the one they had arrived from. There were less paintings and large windows over the walls. Large windows closed by a barricade. At the center of the room was a big white wooden chest. And standing on the chest was a man swinging a construction hammer around. He looked like Kugelmugel, but at the same time he didn't. The man had white hair and purple eyes, but he was old and dressed in black clothes. He was attentive yet tired eyes and worn out, colorful hands.

There was another man in the room, which the first one didn't pay attention to. Kneeling in a corner, his hands were tied and his mouth was gagged. That one looked even more that Kugelmugel, but a grown-up Kugelmugel, strong, adult. At least he would have looked like that if he wasn't all tied up.

"Where is the demon? Can you see it?" England asked. The nations, one by one, had closed up behind Hungary and beheld the scene.

It wasn't that you could see the demon, it was that you could make it out. Some sort of colorless, misty, contorted, insidious shape randomly spinning around in the room, stubbornly, aggressively, on which the chest man was focusing all of his attention, like he was protecting with his life the precious item. The demon wasn't exactly scary, that was the worst part. There was something hypnotizing in the dancing circumvolutions that composed it. Looking at it was like taking an airplane and getting close to the clouds. You wanted to touch them, even when knowing that it wasn't possible and that it would probably be unpleasant at best.

England gestured at the others to stand back a little, to get out of its sight. The nations walked back into the corridor. "There we are," he whispered as silently as he could. "It a very dangerous being, so let me take care of it, understood?"

"How are you going to do it?" Italy breathed.

"A little bit of magic and it'll be banned from Kugelmugel's psyche," England assured. "If I can take it by surprise, it'll be over in less than a second."

"What if it sees you?" Hungary considered.

"I'll have to fight it."


	15. The crisis

Dusk had swooped in a while ago. It was now late night. The kids were getting tired in their room. Sealand had already fallen asleep, on the floor, his head snuggled against the mattress. Wy and Ladonia were also pretty sleepy but the redhead was still trying his best to paint with Kugelmugel. Finland had brought them quiche for dinner, because they straight up refused to leave the bedroom for so long. Prussia had gone downstairs to grab a bear at one point and had brought back some juice for them. Now, he was playing a game on his phone.

Kugelmugel yawned, and all of the others did as well, almost immediately. But he and Ladonia kept painting.

The redhead wasn't sure if it was because he was tired or because he had spent several hours on it, but he felt like he was starting to understand the logic in the shapes his best friend was tracing out, and like he was understood as well. He could not explain it, but he felt the hope, despair, fear and relief seeping through the colors and symbols. _Stay with me, but be careful_ , they said. _I know, don't worry, it'll be fine_ , Ladonia would answer over them. And the painting would smile at him.

Kugelmugel yawned again and went to put his brush down.

"Oh, no! You can't sleep!" Ladonia said with a voice that tried to be authoritarian, but that actually just sounded like a sigh. England had said something like that, that it would only make things worse. "Right?" He turned to Prussia so that he'd confirm it but the former empire just shrugged.

"Sure, I guess."

Kugelmugel yawned a third time and tried to lay down, but Ladonia took his hand, drawing a grumpy whine from the possessed child. "No, no, stay! Wait, look." He took his brush and orange stars scattered on the canvas. _No, danger, don't_.

Kugelmugel sat up and took his brush to redraw the stars in grey. _I don't care. Tired_ , added the dull moon at the bottom of the canvas.

 _Dangerous_ , Ladonia insisted. Then softer colors. _I'm here for you, so please_?

He kept going on as long as he could, teasing his friend through his brush, trying to keep him awake all while ignoring his own eyelids growing heavier by the minute. Time was ticking and he was praying the internet god for the others to finish up quickly, so that they could both go to sleep, so that this whole debacle could be behind them, so that everything could go back to normal.

Kugelmugel's gestures were slowing and Ladonia got worried, trying to push back the inevitable moment when he would end up falling into Morpheus's arms. But he soon realized Kugel wasn't just slower, his hand was shaking as he held the paint brush.

Ladonia looked away from the canvas and looked at his friend's face. There was a tear on his cheek and the redhead wondering what it meant for a moment before realizing it was a real tear. Kugelmugel was crying. "What's the matter, Kugelmugel?" _What is it_?

"Is there a problem?" Wy asked, startled awake.

 _It hurts inside._

 _Where? Head?_

 _Throat, lungs. Guts._

"Ladonia, what's going on?" Prussia said from the other side of the room.

"He's hurt," Ladonia just said, trying to find a solution.

Kugelmugel didn't give him enough time to do so, though. The brush fell on the floor and his stained hands covered his flooded face. He started to tremble, lips shut. Ladonia reflexively put a hand on his shoulder. Instead of pushing him back, Kugelmugel snuggled into him, buried his face into his friend's shirt and let out the sobs shaking his body.

Sealand woke up, Prussia stood. Ladonia snaked his arms around Kugelmugel's shoulders and tried to calm him down by rubbing his back.

"Does he need anything? I'm sure Al's got aspirin."

"I don't know what's the matter with him, it doesn't look like…"

Kugelmugel screamed into the fabric of his shirt, pushed him away and tried to burry himself into the mattress instead. Ladonia panicked and tried to calm him down, saying his name to get his attention. But Kugelmugel seemed too far gone, and screamed too much to hear him anyway. His muscles were straining out of nothing, his back was arching, he was braking his voice against the bed. And Ladonia kept saying "Kugel! Kugel!" with a terrified face.

Prussia's military reflexes kicked in. He knew he couldn't use the tranquilizers, but an attack was an attack. "Out, get out, kids, quick, go!" Sealand tumbled out, Wy racing past him. Ladonia tried to stay but was thrown out as well. Through the open door, the sound of screams alerted the other guests and America, who was perplexed by the whole shindig.

Prussia didn't payed mind to it, he gripped the micronation's shoulders and turned him around to face him. The white haired child struggled fiercely but visibly couldn't control his body shaking with spasms and sobs. The wails were piercing his eardrums.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Prussia yelled, louder than the boy, in order to be heard. "Are you listening? Look at me, soldier!" His pale hands covered the boy's cheeks. "Breath, open your eyes, you're with me!"

He heard someone asking something through the door but didn't listen. His left hand slipped down to Kugelmugel's chest and pressed gently. "Can you feel that? Come on, breath!"

Kugelmugel wasn't listening, but he could feel the hand pressing against his diaphragm, and slowly his sobs calmed down, trying to follow the rhythm. Prussia was praising him from behind the cries dying in the air. "I'm proud of you, soldier. Come one, look at me. Look around you."

And, diving head first into the ex-nation's red gaze, Kugelmugel opened his eyes.


	16. The fight

England got to work, ignoring the remarks and questions buzzing around him until someone pointed out they had to be quiet, otherwise the demon might hear them.

He didn't have his magic tool, inside the psyche. No cray or salt, no athame, no wand. Of course, he had the most important: his power and will. He could manage with the bare minimum, but he had to admit he had always preferred having something to hold, it was comforting.

He took a deep breath and focused, blocking all outside disturbance, then started chanting. The most difficult part would be to get close enough to the demon without being noticed, but he needed to see so he could visualize the spell clearly. To ban a presence, one had to be aware of the presence, and the demon's form made it quite difficult to apprehend. England quickly projected an invisibility shield around him, doubled with a protective screen. He if was noticed, at least he wouldn't be completely vulnerable. The important part was to stay focused.

He knew the spell was working when he took a few steps and none of the other nations payed attention to him. They were whispering backup plans among each other. It wasn't so much an invisibility spell as it was a discretion spell. He made sure to stay calm and to keep the spell in mind, then took a few more steps and turned around the corner.

He was walking slowly, naturally, keeping the shield in mind. The demon was still roaming around the hammer man, almost aimlessly, like a fish swimming around in an aquarium. Maybe it was simply waiting for an opening. The man, standing on his chest, wouldn't look away from it. What kind of precious thing was in that chest for the demon to want it so much and for the man to attempt so desperately to keep it. No, no, he had to focus, to at least get somewhere where he could aim easily.

He chose to stop at the end of the corridor. He was hesitating. Would he be able to cast his spell fast enough, or should he try to keep on his illusion? Since he'd rather get rid of the problem for good, he'd want something well done rather than some quickly casted ban, but he had no guaranty that the demon would sense his presence the second he'd drop the glamour.

In his hesitation, the illusion flickered and, for a moment, he met the hammer man's gaze. The man blinked, surprised that he was only noticing him now, and worried about the presence of the stranger. England struggled to keep the spell up again, hiding himself. But the man was now aware of his presence. He was watching the demon again but kept glancing at him. It was only a matter of seconds before his behavior alarmed the demon.

Well, it seemed like he didn't have a choice. Something quick and efficient. England payed attention to the dark, vaporous form menacingly roving the room. He waited for it to be in an adequate angle, observing its movements.

Then he dropped the illusion, raised his hands in front of him and yelled at full force. " _EXI_!"

A beam of light shot out from his fingers, a lot more powerful than anything he could cast on the physical plane – yes the psyche tended to do that. The whole action had taken only two seconds, maybe, but England was shocked when the creature lazily dodged his attack, looking barely surprised by his presence. It slithered towards him, swimming in the air, like some black smoke crocodile. So much for the element of surprise. England yelled again, as quickly as possible. " _EXI_!"

The demon dodged again, and England had to back up in front of the creature slipping towards him. He avoided the narrow corridor and chose instead to walk back along the wall, keeping the demon in sight.

" _EXI ! VADE FORAS ! NON MANEAS ! NON REDEAS ! EXI ! EXI_!"

With each exclamation, a new beam would leave his open palms, and each would hit a wall, missing its target. The more he casted, the more tired and the less precise he was, and the easier the demon could dodge, dancing around, taunting him by taking its sweet time. It even went as far as pushing him against the wall before drawing back, looking almost like it was laughing. England's patience was running thin.

He observed the demon, trying to find a weak spot. It suddenly seemed like it was slowing down and he decided to take his chance, not realizing where the demon had stopped.

" _EXI_!" he yelled again. Another beam shot out and the demon gracefully moved out of the way, letting the attack hit the chest behind it. England gasped, realizing his mistake.

The hammer man who had watched the entire fight without lowering his guard for even a second was thrown onto the ground and let out a pained cry. The chest shook from the impact, then kept vibrating, more intensely every second. England, eyes wide, hands shaking, was trying to watch everything at the same time: the demon, the man, the chest that looked like an engine about to burst.

Then the lid flew open and a purple and white mass was thrown into the air, so quickly England barely managed to see it. The demon and the hammer man both raced at the thing before it even began to fall back down. The demon was the fastest, but as its sordid convolutions were about to reach their goal, a red bullet threw itself in its way.

The demonic cloud absorbed it by mistake and the purple and white thing let out a horrified scream as it fell into the arms of the man who had let go of his hammer and ran without hesitation towards a flabbergasted England. The white thing looked up at him and the nation recognized Kugelmugel's terrified face – or at least the mental representation of his Ego.

The cloud angrily spat out its prisoner – Ladonia. The boy fell on his knees and Kugelmugel let out another pained cry. England, from the corner of his eye, saw the other nations clustering the corridor. Ready to act, but also an easy target if the demon had the idea of attacking them. Why did they all have to come? "Defenduntur," he whispered, raising a discreet mental shield around them.

Thankfully, the demon didn't seem to pay them any mind. The dark curves of its being seemed to twist vividly out of anger, rolling over like some dark silt stirred by the tide, before swooping down on Kugelmugel, still held in the old man's arms. England took the opportunity. "EXI!" he yelled, and this time, the beam reached its target who was in too much of a hurry to pay attention.

The demon was thrown against the barricade of a large window that cracked from the impact with a sound England found very satisfying. His spell didn't seem to be strong enough though: the demon hadn't been banned immediately. Its body was held back by this sort of barrier surrounding Kugelmugel's psyche, that the thing had probably put there itself to avoid being chased from it. No matter. He knew even the strongest mental barrier couldn't resist a repeated spell, especially coming from a powerful wizard such as him – really!

Before the demon could pull itself together and attack, England repeated the spell, sending the creature hitting the window again, breaking the barrier a little further with a loud noise that scared Kugelmugel to the point of tears. Ladonia managed to crawl towards them to comfort his friend – no, the master, the owner of this psyche. England didn't pay attention to what the children were whispering to each other, gathering his energy for a new attack. The demon, groggy, almost seemed to be stumbling in the air. Its vaporous body was condensing, concentrating, solidifying with every new collision. Maybe it was just a side-effect of the spell. Whatever.

A third crack ringed out when the demon was hit a third time and sent against the barricade.

"STOP!" Kugelmugel suddenly screamed, in the middle of a sobbing fit among the shouts and cracks and calls.

England tried not to pay him any mind. He could feel the barrier about to break, his goals within reach. He was about to cast a new spell but something held his arm back. England tried to shake it off. The thing was light but stubborn. He turned to it, furious.

Ladonia was looking at him with pleading eyes, fists clenched around his forearm. "You are hurting him!"

"That's the idea!" England said as he pushed him away.

Again, he aimed for the demon getting a hold of himself on the other side of the room. His target vanished.

"France, move!" he yelled, enraged.

"England, stop and look at Kugelmugel !" France snapped back, arms open like he was protecting the creature.

"What?!" England spat as he turned around.

Kugelmugel was crying hysterically, his face deformed by pain, lying in the laps of the old man still glaring at the demon from across the room. Austria and Hungary – when did they get here?! – were holding the child's pale hands, trying to sooth him. Germany was speaking to him like he was a wounded soldier, kneeling in front of him, with Italy clinging to his neck and watching England with frightened eyes.

His anger was drained like water in a sink. England tried to hear himself think. He hadn't really realized how loud everything had got during his fight with the demon. He glanced at France and raised his hands slowly. They were trembling from all the adrenalin whipping his veins. France touched his hand. It was burning. He wasn't calm, not at all.

He forced himself to watch, to think, as France moved out of the way and behind him, his cold hand keeping him from falling back into the fury of the fight. The demon had had the time to pull itself together now. And instead of attacking, it hit the wall again. Then again. And again. It should be able to sense where they were, why was it still going the wrong way?

 _No, no_ , England reasoned, _that's not what it wants to do. It was hit three times, it knows it's too weak to fight. Its best option is to escape. So it is trying to escape this psyche_.

But then, why was it not just dropping the barrier, instead of breaking it?

 _Because it is not it who put it there_!

England's eyes widened as he turned around for a second towards Kugelmugel. Kugelmugel who was writhing in pain and screaming each time the demon hit the barricade.

The barrier wasn't meant to keep others from coming in. It wasn't meant to keep the demon from being banished.

It was meant to keep it from escaping.

An impact stronger than the others pierced the barrier and the window behind it. Kugelmugel screamed. The dark body of the demon flowed through the opening with a satisfied hiss. It disappeared without a trace.

"Fuck," England swore.

It was his fault.


	17. The wakening

Kugelmugel opened his eyes at the first rays of dawn, and immediately closed them shut, whining from the pain. A headache was drilling into his temples.

He rolled over in bed, burying his face into his pillow, trying to go back to sleep to no avail.

"Be quiet," a voice whispered. "Don't wake up the others."

Startled, he struggled to open his eyes. His gaze first fell upon Ladonia, half-laying on the bed as he had fallen asleep at his bedside. Seeing him there, he felt warmth blooming in his heart, a confused and clumsy thankfulness and the desire to take that hand lying by his side, on the blanket. Sealand and Wy were sleeping on the floor, on the mattress, having maybe forgotten that there was a second bed in the room.

Sitting on a chair, next to the door, Austria was watching him, a closed book on his lap. "Are you alright, Kugelmugel?"

"I think so? I…" Kugelmugel frowned. "What got into me? Am I mad?"

"No. You were possessed by a demon that took control of your psyche."

Kugelmugel couldn't make any comment, too stunned by the explanation that strangely seemed to have enough sense to him. "Am I still…?"

"No. According to England, you are out of trouble."

"Did he make the… Well, the demon go away?"

"Yes."

Kugelmugel had the confusing feeling of knowing what happened without actually remembering anything. But thinking was making his headache worse and he groaned. What he would have done for a pencil and a sheet of paper right then.

"Kugelmugel?" The micronation looked up. Austria was looking at him with a… not really worried nor exactly sad face, but something in the middle. A wrinkle between his eyes, tight-lipped, looking like he was searching his own words. "Do you know what happened? When your behavior changed? What do you remember?"

"I was mostly scared," Kugelmugel let out before taking a few seconds to think. "I wanted to hit everyone, and it scared me."

"England said the demon aroused the urge to conquer, in nations."

"That's it, but I, I was scared because… because…" The words wouldn't come out. Not in front of Austria. There was a long moment of silence, one not daring to answer, the other not daring to keep talking.

"Last time you felt this kind of urge, it was the day you were founded. Your creator, Edwin, was arrested and put in jail and you stayed imprisoned in your own house, too young to know how to leave," Austria eventually uttered. Kugelmugel didn't dare ask how he knew this. He had never asked. He just nodded. "So you tried to repress the feeling. And that's why you cut yourself from everyone?"

"I think so."

"You created a barrier around your psyche to keep the demon from escaping. Why?"

"I… I don't know, I…" His head was throbbing, he put it in his hands. "I was probably scared that it's give the others a desire to conquer?"

"Just one last thing, it's very important. Do you remember the moment you fainted?"

Kugelmugel searched his memory, to no avail. "The last thing I remember is my painting and… Pain, all over my body. And then… I really don't know."

Austria didn't ask any more questions and Kugelmugel was thankful, he just wanted to go back to sleep. But on the other hand, he was happy. He remembered feeling extremely lonely and threatened under the demon's grasp. Austria stood from his chair, leaving his book behind, and came to sit gently at his bedside, trying his best not to wake up Ladonia who was gripping the covers in his sleep.

Four purple eyes met and didn't let go. It was unusual among nations, so many details linking the adult and the child. The same eyes, the same mole on the cheek, the same rebel cowlick over their forehead, the same need to sublime their thoughts, through art for one, through music for the other. Austria was probably what was the equivalent to his parent, in human terms. Granted, he hadn't always acted this way. But at this moment, as they were eye to eye, Roderich took his hand and said "I'm glad you are safe and sound, Leopold." And for the first time, Leopold liked hearing his human name in Roderich's mouth. Certainly not enough to call him Vater, but enough to think about it.

Leopold's purple eyes blinked. It was still early and he hadn't slept that much. So Austria did something Kugelmugel had never seen him do, even though Hungary had sometime told him about it, laughing. Still carefully watching him, he started slowly humming Brahms's Lullaby. Kugelmugel eventually fell asleep, after several minutes, appeased by the sweet melody and by his father's voice.

* * *

"He doesn't remember anything."

"Of course," England sighed. "It'd be too easy."

"You're overreacting, mon lapin. With all the spells you threw at it, it could very well just have been banished from the house," France maintained, trying to stay optimistic – someone had to do it after all.

"Oh, believe me, froggy, it's still there and it found a new host."

"We know the symptoms, though, if it manifests itself again, we'll find it easily," Austria reasoned.

"The symptoms are different, each person reacts differently at first." England signed. "We can only wait. Hopefully, it'll have reached someone who doesn't have so much of a conquering spirit…"

Said the former empire, in a house filled with world powers.

* * *

End of Kugelmugel's arc and of the fanfiction for the moment! As I said, I'm not really satisfied with this work and I intent to rewrite it later, with real research backup. But I still wanted to finish it, just because I have way too many unfished fanfics.

Thank you for reading until the end! If you follow my other fanfictions, note down that I'm continuing my Undertale fic "Here I am" in four weeks, so maybe go take a look! Thank you all and happy October!


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